Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Copland, artist - Immortal Technique. Date of issue: 31.12.2006
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Copland |
| Uh-huh, yeah, I represent Da Circle |
| This go out to Fuzz, the Jake, po-po |
| One time, them boys |
| Haha, better known to y’all as the beast |
| Yeah, uh-huh, check it |
| 40 to a pig’s head ←-(?), get in the crib |
| Hit the lamp post, and took a 40 yard piss |
| So sit twice, that’s good |
| Can’t keep my cock out, turn the boogie |
| This rookie flat foot, had his Glock out |
| Damn it’s so wild, you wildin' |
| You all gung-ho, for that bum ass 25,000 |
| Should of got a job at Staples, stockin' shelves |
| 4 to 12, get you the safe paper |
| Here’s the idea, I’m Poison Pen, yeah stay right there man |
| I live with no string, breath easy |
| You get loud, I get loud back |
| You calm down, you get wild, I get wild back |
| No disrespect to the kid, I get ?? |
| as fuck |
| Especially when my record is clean |
| Patted me down, deputes stacks |
| Half for me, got her realize only got two g’s back, damn |
| I hate muthafuckin' cops like Justin Vowby and Richard Murphy |
| So I paid a prostitute to fuck ‘em slowly and give ‘em herpes |
| Protect and serve me 'cause I pay taxes right |
| Instead they go 730, and beat me with their magna lights |
| It happened twice, Huntricle Station in Central Iceland |
| Gettin' righteous, whoopin' my ass with the Sheriff’s night-stick |
| I’d rather fight than run, like Will Tarance, guest starrin' in the precinct |
| Smackin' the death sergeant with my arrest warrants |
| Treated like my eyes are blind, so I do right in silent ?? |
| time |
| For slittin' cop’s throat with a badge he hides behind |
| It’s a sign of the times and made me a firm believer |
| They’ll perform illegal search and seize ya take your work and beat ya |
| I rolled up on a cop with a stolen go-kart and hit him so hard |
| He rico-shades and flips over his own patrol car |
| Call for back-up, I won’t run when I hear the iron blast |
| I’ll just laugh when I see them muthafuckin' sirens flash |
| Ayo secretly assaulted, decieving ghetto orphans |
| Momma ran the righteous equivalent to abortions |
| Remain silent, the law which you pretend to be |
| Public defenders, with no interest in defendin' me |
| Whatever happened with to each is own |
| Your timeline of corruption stretchin' reach their own |
| This ain’t Julius Ceaser, seize and assist pa |
| These don’t exist if police cuff my wrist pa |
| I got patience, got a strong resolve |
| But if all else fail, got the chrome revolved |
| In revolvalution, upholds my constitutional rights |
| If you think they playin' fair you delusional |
| I cause contusions to coppers, who confuse a few |
| Make they black bruise ooze white puss like a Suzy-Cue |
| I’m like the big bad wolf to these piglets, with no resentment |
| A co-defendant of the ?? |
| Four cops, 41 shots, 19 hit the frame, close range |
| One unarmed man, like ?? |
| poll |
| My scriptures beat the Gospel |
| Protect and serve, mathematically impossible |
| Continuous oppressive procession, latin and nigga depression |
| Is now your condition |
| Resist arrest, they got ya number, get your teeth knocked out |
| Four astericks on a plunger |
| Coward bastards got me pulled over in traffic |
| Talkin' sarcastic, smithies' on they ratchets |
| I speak for the niggas and spics, dudes and chicks |
| Without the badge and gun, you ain’t shit |
| Crime scene alterations, cover-up altercations |
| That end in homicide with no justification |
| Political agendas achieved though economic |
| P.O.L.I.C.E spell pigs in ebonics |
| We were swallowed by the system for 500 summers |
| In order to satisfy Europe and Americas hunger |
| The preach-hate police state gives football numbers |
| But it’s always probation, for the rich, white |
| New generation of pill-poppin' politicians that make a donation |
| The segregation of drug offenses prevent their incarceration |
| You can’t justify your liberation, 'cause you’re the incarnation of Jefferson |
| Davies' nation |
| The Justice System is a plantation, the Blue-Klux-Klan overseers beat us |
| lifeless |
| I wish someone would rape a cop with a night-stick |
| Side swipe you in Central Park and get your bike flipped |
| You pretend to be righteous and use torture devices |
| In Chicago, New York and down in the south of course |
| Use to hunt us for sport, now we takin' the court |
| With some trumped-up charges added in the report |
| ‘Cause you hopin' that we cop a plea |
| You can keep your fake rehabilitation philosophy |
| Fuck prison, my freedom is prophecy |
| So I’m drivin' with the pump-shot cocked in Copland |
| With heavy-metal screamin' out like a Rock band |
| ‘Cause if you don’t respect me, then I don’t respect you |
| And if you don’t protect us, then it will affect you |
| Each bullet is a scalpel and it will dissect you |
| You muthafuckas know what it is |
| Immortal Technique, Da Circle |
| Harlem, Brooklyn |
| Back again muthafucka |
| We ain’t takin' no shit from no pig mothafucka |
| You heard that nigga |
| Immortal Technique |
| 'Fuck out of here |